


You Need to Wake Up Because I Can't Do This Without You

by DaringlyDomestic



Series: Tumblr Drabble Challenge [12]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 14:45:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7849240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaringlyDomestic/pseuds/DaringlyDomestic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr Drabble Challenge #20</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Need to Wake Up Because I Can't Do This Without You

John’s stomach runs cold and he huddles in on himself trying to protect his vulnerable core. He stays locked in the fetal position for several seconds before he registers that the cold is coming from the strong hands clasped around him. He huffs his annoyance. Sherlock kisses along the nape of John’s neck.

“You need to wake up because I can’t do  this  without you.”

Sherlock emphasizes the word “this” by thrusting hard against John’s spine. John feels himself getting hard at the suggestion of sex with Sherlock. Not wanting to give in so easily, he pulls himself away.

“You can get off just fine without me. I’m sleeping.”

John’s words are sleep-muddled and muffled by the comforter he draws up to his chin. Sherlock draws lazy circles down his back. John can feel the melodic puffs of breath on his neck. Sherlock moans low and wantonly.

“John, please. I need -”

He gasps and John can feel Sherlock’s body writhing behind him. 

“Need you. Want to feel you…”

Sherlock swallows loudly and alternates kisses and bites lovingly down John’s neck. Sherlock’s hips rock particularly hard and the man keens. John gives up the pretense and flips over to cradle the great idiot in his arms. 

“I got you, love. Steady on now.”

He hisses air sharply through his nose when he sees three long violinist’s fingers buried deep in Sherlock’s arse. Sherlock laughs.

“I wasn’t lying. No matter how many times you tell me to, it is scientifically impossible for me to go fuck myself.”

John bursts into hysterical giggles and kisses Sherlock’s heaving chest. 

“Yes, yes. I’m on it. God forbid we have morning sex like normal people. You know that doesn’t usually mean waking up your partner at half-two, yeah?”

Sherlock, ever impatient, takes the liberty of stroking John to full hardness with his lube covered hand. John hovers over the detective and plants a surprisingly gentle kiss on the his lips as he pushes in. 

John stills and marvels at the fact that he gets this. He is allowed to touch and taste and feel. He gets to feel each shiver of the lean body beneath him. He gets to hear each moan and whine and plea. He gets to taste each kiss. 

“You’re right, you know?”

“Yes,” Sherlock snaps, clearly not pleased with the delay. His eyes flutter open and his expression softens.

“About what?”

John smiles and tucks an errant curl behind his ear. 

“I can’t do this without you.”

Sherlock winds his limbs around John’s and pulls him closer, knowing exactly what John means. He means the sex of course, but he also means the chases, the takeaway, the strange sleep schedule, the body parts in the kitchen, the violin at all hours, the passing of each hour, the continuing pump of blood through veins. 

They don’t need words. The sentiment is conveyed and acknowledged by a single look. The moment stretches only a little longer before Sherlock is wriggling and trying to slowly thrust himself farther down John’s cock. And that’s perfect too.


End file.
